Milkshakes, Spit-Takes, and Dropped Soap
by ProfessorDumbleBrows
Summary: Alfred invited Arthur to stay after their world meeting. While at home, Alfred makes them both milkshakes and decide to start a little contest that ends up in a sticky mess that both of them would need to wash off. USUK, human names used, and rated M for obvious yaoi reasons. Spoiler: Shower smex.


**A/N: KAGAMINERINCHAN IS BACK BABY! Heheheh~ So lately, I have not been writing because I've had some horrible writers block and apparently took up the skill of drawing (eventhoughistillsuckatit...). Yeah... ANYWAY! This idea I got in the summer of 2011 and I didn't start writing it out until September of 2012. Late, I know. Way late.**

**So... I wrote this while I still had writers' block. I hope it came out to everyone's liking though. Some stuff might be awkwardly phrased or rushed, I'm aware of this but my writers' block didn't help when it came to correcting. So I just let it be.**

**Enough with the random rant. ENJOY THE SMUT!**

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**Milkshakes, Spit-Takes, and Dropped Soap**

"And that concludes our world meeting! Enjoy your summer guys!" Alfred F. Jones — also known as the personification of the United States of America — said.

All the other nations wished happy summers and safe trips to each other as they left the conference room. Alfred was scrambling around, collecting papers and other documents he brought with him. The American sighed, he hated when the meetings were held at his place. However, he failed to notice one country has not left yet. Arthur Kirkland — the personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (or better yet, just England) — got up from his seat and decided to help Alfred with his collecting.

"Huh?" Alfred sounded when he heard the shuffling sounds of paper. He looked up and saw Arthur helping.

"Iggy! I didn't know you were still here!" he said, a huge grin plastered to his face.

Arthur sighed deeply, "I honestly wish Kiku never told you how to say England in Japanese..."

The Brit suddenly recalled the moment when Kiku Honda (Japan) decided to teach the nations their names in Japanese. Once Alfred heard Arthur's name — Igirisu — he had a hard time pronouncing every syllable. So instead, he decided to say Iggy and found the nickname to be cute for his new British lover.

"Oh come on. Its not that bad! Anyway, I was wonderin' if you're still gonna stay for the week. Are ya?"

"Learn to speak proper English and maybe I will."

"I'll take that as a yes!"

"But I didn—"

"Gimmie those papers so we can head over to my house already!"

"America..."

Alfred took the few papers from Arthur's hands and threw them in his briefcase. He closed it, grabbed the handle, then sprinted out the door.

"Come on, Artie!" Alfred yelled once he was out the door. Arthur sighed deeply and thought to himself, 'Why am I dating this mental wanker?'

x X x

It was a long car ride from Washington D.C. to New York City. Arthur was awake for most of the ride but fell asleep for the last hour. Alfred noticed how tired the Brit was and let him sleep. Once in the busy city of New York, Alfred drove to his apartment, to which he thanked God that there was parking in front. Any New Yorker would know how hard it is to find parking in the city. Once the car was parked, Alfred turned the car off and reached an arm over to shake the sleeping Brit.

"Arthur. Hey Arthur, wake up." he said. In response, Arthur's eyebrows twitched and he sighed deeply, still sleeping. Alfred made a face at his eyebrows twitching and shook him again. "Dude! Wake the hell up!"

"N'eh?!" Arthur woke up with a startled expression.

"Whoa, Arthur, calm down! Its only me."

"Alfred...? You git! What business do you have waking me up like that?!"

"You didn't wake up before... Anyway, we're here!"

Arthur rubbed at his eyes tiredly, "We are? Okay then."

The two got out of the car. Arthur was about to get his bags but Alfred insisted he carried them. They went back and forth but Arthur ended up getting what he wanted. He grabbed his bags and the two walked to the entrance. They walked inside, into the elevator and took it to the very last floor. Alfred managed to get himself the penthouse room of the building after quite sometime. He waited years for the lady living there to move. She finally did when she got a job in... Canada, was it? The hell he would know, maybe he would ask his Canadian personification of a brother, Matthew Williams, sometime.

The two got off from the elevator when it stopped on the last floor and went to the apartment. Arthur looked around as he walked inside. No matter how many times he stood over at Alfred's house, he would never get used it. It was just... So different from his home back in London. But then again... America. England. Of course there was a huge difference. Nonetheless, Arthur walked to his usual guest room — though he never used it because he would always end up in Alfred's room. He opened the door, placed his bags inside by the door frame, and closed the door. Alfred was already in the kitchen, looking for something in the refrigerator. Arthur stood at the arch opening of the kitchen and crossed his arms.

"Really, Alfred?" He asked, secretly eying the American from behind.

"Huh? I'm just looking for something." He said, still looking around in the fridge.

"What are yo—?"

"Found it!"

Alfred pulled out a jug of milk and placed it on the counter. He turned back to the fridge, opened the freezer, and pulled out a bucket of ice cream. He placed that on the counter next to the milk and looked over at Arthur.

"Dude, can ya turn on the A.C.? It's freakin' hot in here."

Even though he was curious as to what Alfred was doing, he gave a simple nod and went into the short hallway to turn on the air conditioner for the whole apartment. He went back to the kitchen and saw Alfred putting the milk and ice cream in a blender.

"Hey Artie, want a milkshake?"

Being in a particular good mood, and also feeling hot, Arthur nodded. Alfred grinned happily and put more of the ice cream and milk into the blender. He closed the lid and blended away the dairy produce. Arthur walked into the living room and sat on the couch. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion wash over him. A few seconds later, Alfred walked into the living room with two tall glasses filled to the brim with milkshakes.

"Here ya go, Arthur!" He said with a grin as he handed the Briton his glass.

"Hm?" Arthur opened his eyes and gave a weak smile as he took the glass. "Thank you, Alfred." He said softly before taking a sip. Alfred gave a nod and took a gulp of his. The two stood silent for a short time, slowly drinking their shakes. However, Alfred grew annoyed with the silence and need to hear the other male's voice.

"Heeeeeey Arthur?"

"..." A sigh. "Yes, Alfred?"

"Wanna have a contest?"

"...What kind of contest?"

"To see who can make the other do the biggest spit take or get the other to spill their shake over themselves." Alfred said, grinning like a child.

Arthur rose an eyebrow. "Sounds messy... Yet interesting." He said. Oddly he was in his best mood despite being a little worn out. "I'll take part of your contest. How would you go upon making the other spit take?"

Alfred shrugged, but knew exactly what to do. Psh, it not like he's going to tell him. He rose his glass and said, "Good luck!" before taking a small gulp.

Arthur nodded and did the same. As he drank the milkshake, Alfred stopped and shouted in an urgent tone, "ARTHUR!"

Said British male reacted to his named being shouted by jumping up from the couch —careful not to spill the milkshake— and choking a little from the drink he tried to swallow. "W-What is it?!" He asked in a panicked voice.

Alfred let out a loud laugh as he pressed back into the couch. "Oh god, dude! Your face!"

The Briton gritted his teeth and sat back down as his eyes tried to burn holes through the American. "Bloody git... If that's the way you want to play, then so be it." He said before hesitantly sipping at the milkshake again. Alfred's laughter ceased and he wiped away fake tears.

"Sorry. But I didn't really give any rules, did I?" He said.

"I suppose not..."

The younger grinned. "So anything goes!" He said before taking long gulps of hid milkshake, careful not to get brain freeze. As he did this, Arthur gazed at him and suddenly got an idea. He knew he was loosing his pride, but he also knew the results would be quite... Amusing. He took a deep breath and made an — as Kiku would call it — uke face.

"Alfreeeeed~ I _need_you inside me!" He said in a needy voice.

Alfred's eyes widened as he automatically dropped his glass on himself and choked on the drink in his mouth. He force-swallowed and coughed harshly, patting his chest.

"Are you okay?!" Arthur asked in between his laughs.

"Yo, not cool!" Alfred said as he placed his glass on the coffee table, standing up and wiping the milkshake from his chin.

Arthur laughed and placed his glass on the coffee table as well. He doubled over and his laughs turned to snickers in an attempt to stop. "I'm sorry, but as you say… 'I just _had_ to!'" He took a deep breath and pretended to wipe a tear away as a snicker escaped every now and then.

Alfred glared softly at him. "Still not cool." He mumbled as he stood up and pulled off his t-shirt. He used the shirt to wipe his face and groaned. Arthur looked up at him and stopped laughing, feeling his heart dropped at the sight of the shirtless American. He gulped and looked away. "Have you no respect? Taking off your bloody shirt in front of someone…" He said quietly.

The younger grinned, "Well it is my house and you've seen everything anyway, right? I think I can take my shirt off as I please."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed, grabbing his milkshake again and sipping at the rest. Suddenly, Alfred decided to get some revenge for the mess the elder of the two made to his shirt and his face. However, he could not think of anything and decided to throw his shirt at him. Although he was aiming for his stomach, the shirt flew towards Arthur's face and pushed his hand, causing the glass to tilt up and spill on him. Alfred's eyes widened and he jumped to his side. With a shocked shout, Arthur jolted up from the couch and groaned.

"Alfred?! What the bleeding hell were you thinking?!" He said, obviously frustrated, as he put down the glass on the table again and pushed Alfred weakly. He ran the back of his hand along his mouth and glared at the wheat-blond.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hit your face! It was supposed to land on your lap!" Alfred exclaimed.

"Whatever… Now I have to go shower. Thank you, Alfred."

"I said I'm sorry…"

Arthur rolled his eyes and walked out of the living room. He headed towards the guest room and grabbed a set of clean clothes from his suitcase. Meanwhile, Alfred sighed and went straight to the bathroom. He knew Arthur was going to take a shower right away but Alfred figured since it was his house, he could make the Brit wait... Or even get him to join. The American closed the bathroom door behind him as he entered and began undoing his pants.

Back in the guest room, Arthur held his new set of clothes and a wash cloth. He walked out of the room and to the bathroom. Without knocking, he opened the door and found himself to be staring at the bispectical male wearing American flag printed boxers – whom was staring back at him in question. Arthur's face was painted a shade of red as his eyes opened.

"Er, sorry!" He said before closing the door. A deep breath escaped his lips and he looked down at the floor. "…Wait… Alfred!" He groaned and turned around. "Why are you in the loo, _knowing_ I was planning on taking a shower now?!"

Alfred cracked the door open and peeked his head. "My house, dude. I can do whatever I want, when I want." He grinned.

"I don't care if its your house! You've caused me to create a mess of myself and I would like to clean myself up." The shorter of the two said as he glared at the taller.

Alfred sighed. "Just join me. Like I said earlier, you've seen everything anyway."

"I-It does not matter! It's called having manners!"

The American rolled his eyes.

Arthur blushed and continued what was beginning to turn into a rant. "Have you no shame, Alfr—gah!"

Alfred grew bored of the few words said and did not feel like listening to a speech he knew he was going to receive. He grabbed Arthur's arm and dragged the Brit inside the bathroom during mid-sentence. "Blah blah. Just come in already. We won't have to look at each other, okay?"

"Alfred—"

The named male groaned. "Just do it." He said and walked closer to the shower. He opened the shower door, stripped himself of his boxers, walked inside and closed the door. Arthur looked at Alfred's frame, from the outside of the fogged glass door. He could always walked out of the bathroom, but he figured the bloody tosser would just chase him around the house or something ridiculous like that. Arthur hesitantly reached his hands up to his shirt and unbuttoned the shirt. He allowed it to fall off his shoulders – down his arms – and undid his pants. The Briton stripped himself of his lower clothing and looked at the door of the shower.

'No going back now, I suppose…' He thought as he opened the door and stepped in, closing the door afterward. He turned around – his back towards Alfred – and thanked God that the shower was big enough for them not to be touching at all. However, thoughts of the first time they showered together flooded his mind...

"You actually came in?" Alfred chuckled, interrupting Arthur's train of thought and grabbing his bottle of Ax shampoo.

"Shut up, I basically had no choice. I knew you would end up making me come in nonetheless."

"…Yeah. You're right." He popped the cap open and poured some of the shampoo into his hand. He placed it back on the rack and started lathering the substance in his hair.

Arthur inhaled deeply and let out a silent but shaky breath. "I know I am… Now, can you pass me the soap?" He asked, holding his arm out a little to grab it when it is offered.

"Sure, hold up."

Alfred moved his hands under the water to wash off the shampoo on it and grabbed the soap. He moved his arm back and it bumped into Arthur's, causing him to let go of the soap bar by accident. Both males froze and their eyes widened – in which Alfred quickly regretted his actions when his shampoo slid into his eyes.

"Ah, fuck!" he cried out, quickly beginning to rub his eyes.

"W-What?" Arthur asked in a concerned tone.

"Nothin'! Nothin'! Just got shampoo in my eyes…"

"Oh… Are you alright?"

"'m fine."

The two stood in silence, with the exception of the running water. Arthur broke the silence a few seconds later when he he cleared his throat and asked, "Alfred, where is the soap?"

"Uh… I kinda, sorta, dropped it."

"…You dropped it?!"

"Heh, yeah."

"Don't you have another bar of soap?!"

"Unless you want to use shampo—"

"I don't want to use shampoo!"

"Alright. Just. Uh. Press against the wall!"

"Excuse me?!"

"Do it! So I won't have to touch ya when I go to get it."

Arthur hesitated with his actions but soon pressed himself against the wall of the shower. He felt a blush creep on his face when his chest and manhood made contact with the surprisingly chilled wall. He had to bite his lower lip to keep himself from making a sound that would give Alfred the wrong thought. Alfred turned around and saw Arthur pressed up against the wall. He blinked and his eyes traveled all along the Brit's body. If Arthur was wearing clothes, Alfred would have already had him undressed in his mind. Instead of grabbing the soap like he was supposed to, Alfred instead moved behind Arthur and trapped him, placing an arm on either side.

Arthur's eyes widened and he turned his head slightly so glance at Alfred. "What do you think you're doing?!" He questioned.

Alfred pressed his body against Arthur's and smiled. "I think you know very well what I'm doin'."

Before Arthur could open his mouth to start another rant, Alfred pressed his lips on the back of his neck. It was a turn on spot he discovered from the first night they spent together. The Briton stiffened and his hands turned into fists against the wall. Alfred continued with open-mouthed kisses, licking as he moved to his shoulder.

"Ngh... Al-Alfred... Stop it." Arthur said in a breathy voice.

The American made a noise to say no and moved his hands to Arthur's hips as he kissed his shoulder. Alfred ran his hand up and down the side of his hips, slowly moving his way to the front. Arthur accidentally let a moan escape from his mouth and mentally cursed himself for allowing a sign that Alfred was turning him on. The younger of the two smirked.

"Enjoying yourself, love?" He asked in a teasing voice.

"...Shut up, Alfred." Arthur said.

"Mmmm..." Alfred sounded. He moved his hands behind to Arthur's arse and gave the cheeks a squeeze, causing Arthur to squeak. Alfred laughed. "How cute!"

"Just... Shut it and fuck me already if you're going to!"

He laughed again and turned Arthur around so they were face to face. Alfred gave him cock a few strokes to bring himself to full hardness before picking Arthur up. Arthur's body responded by wrapping his legs around him as Alfred positioned himself at the elder's entrance. "This is gonna hurt, you know... Considering I didn't prep ya or anything."

"Just do it. I know its going to hurt!" He let out a frustrated growled.

_'...Did he just growl?' _Alfred thought. He shook his head, grabbed a hold of his hips, and started pushing himself in.

Arthur's breathing quickened and he threw his arms around Alfred's neck. He rested his head on his shoulder and tried to relax at the intrusion. But it was soon becoming unbearable as the tip of Alfred's dick passed and soon his full length was entering. The British male felt as though he was being torn in half, pain beginning to travel all around his lower half. Tears began to slide down his cheek, but was washed away from the water of the shower head. Alfred kissed Arthur's jawline and whispered a 'shhh...'

Soon, Alfred was fully in and Arthur felt nothing but a stinging sensation. The American wanted to wait until Arthur was at least a little bit adjusted to the size, not wanting to cause unnecessary pain. Arthur took a deep breath and mumbled, "Move..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Move."

"Okay..." Alfred carefully pulled back, stopping at his tip, and thrust back in. Arthur let out a weak shout and dug his nails into Alfred's shoulder blades. Alfred winced at this but understood his lover was probably going through more pain. He pulled back again and thrust again, this time looking for Arthur's prostate. Arthur once again let out a sound, signaling that he was in more pain than pleasure. Alfred felt bad and thrust again, this time striking the bundle of nerves. Arthur cried out and moaned from the wave of pleasure that spread throughout his body. Alfred repeated his moves and hit the same spot. Yet another moan escaped from the Brit.

"H-Harder, Alfred..." Arthur said.

Alfred obeyed and began to thrust harder. He was still careful, considering his lover was not prepped, but soon could not hold himself back. He began to thrust with all his strength, hitting Arthur's prostate dead-on. Arthur cried out each time contact was made and arched his back, attempting to move his hips in time with each thrust. Alfred let out groans and moans, loving the heat and tightness that came from the Briton. Soon enough, he felt he was reaching his limit, as well as Arthur felt so too.

"I'm... I'm..." Alfred panted.

"I am too...!" Arthur said, moving a hand down to his own cock and beginning to stroke himself quickly.

Alfred pounded into Arthur a few more times before crying out his name and cumming hard in him. Second later, Arthur cried out Alfred's name and came onto his chest. Both males were breathing deeply and Alfred pulled out of Arthur slowly. Arthur moaned at the feeling of Alfred moving. They both fell to the shower floor and continued their deep breathing.

"Well..." Alfred took a deep breath. "At least we're already in the shower."

Arthur gave a hint of an amused smile and shook his head. He glanced over to his side and found the bar of soap that was dropped. "...And I suppose I have the soap now."

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**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! Don't forget to review and favorite. Reviews gives an author motivation to write more.**


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